


'til we wash away our sins

by frypans



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, M/M, Paradise, Post-The Death Cure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:30:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frypans/pseuds/frypans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho eventually finds out what really happened to Newt when he confronts Thomas who never really was the same again when he reached Paradise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'til we wash away our sins

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece of work based on a tumblr post! (I haven't figured out how to link it, I'm sorry..) But hit me up on tumblr (frypans) and I'll link it to you!

It first started with the nightmares at night, the thrashing in his bed and shortness of breath. Minho didn’t bring it up to Thomas. With what was left of them, nightmares were normal. No one spoke about them and moved on- or at least tried, to move on with their chance at a better life.

For Thomas, the nightmares turned to tears in the early hours of the morning. His dark purple circles were evident on his hauntingly gaunt face during the day. Minho noticed how sometimes his eyes were red rimmed and puffy.

“Hey man, how you holding up?” Minho had once asked, not wanting to be obvious. It had been almost a month since they escaped their burning world. Everyone was beginning to look better, like they had never been experimented on. Except Thomas, who had now looked even worse than the cranks.

He watched as Thomas cracked a smile that never reached his tired eyes. “I’m doing fine,” he had said. “Why’re you asking?”

MInho shrugged in response and did not bring to light how he noticed Thomas stammer over his words. “Just checkin’ up, ya know.”

Minho didn’t ask him again.

No one knew why Thomas became the way he did in Paradise, out of all places, but the change in the boy became so noticeable, the others had noticed. They didn’t know how he cried himself to sleep or how he barely slept like Minho knew but they noticed how he walked around the place with a blank expression. They noticed how when someone mentioned Chuck, Teresa or Newt, he left the room ‘for a glass of water’. Frypan saw how there was more food leftover on Thomas’ plate as the days went by. They all began to tiptoe round him like he was something fragile. It was a drastic change to the boy who helped save them all.

Brenda took Minho aside on the fifth week. “What’s wrong with Thomas?”

“How should I freakin’ know?” Minho retorted. “You’re the one he loves.”

Brenda narrowed his eyes. “You still think that? He hasn’t looked twice at me since the nightmares started. You’re his best friend,” she hissed.

“Newt was his best friend.”

Brenda grabbed his shirt. “In case you haven’t noticed Newt is not here.”

“He’s just upset we lost him.”

“I know how he mourned Chuck, Fry told me. This is some next level shit.”

“Teresa died over there, to save him. He’s probably torn up over her.”

Brenda’s grip loosened on his shirt. “Maybe,” she whispered, in a soft tone. “But I’m- we all are worried about him.”

“And you don’t think I am?”

“Well could you show you are then?” With one last look at him, she let go of him and stormed off.

Minho walked away to his bedroom, processing her words. He wasn’t surprised to find Thomas there. Thomas barely left their room let alone the house, even on the best of days. “Yo Thomas, Gally found a football in the basement, wanna play?”

Thomas was lying on his bed facing the wall. “Nah, I think I’ll skip.”

“Really? ‘Cause you and me on the same team would totally trash Gally and Aris.” Minho sat at the edge of Thomas’ bed. He didn’t get a response so he shook Thomas’ leg. “C’mon man, you’ve barely left this bed, like as comfy as it is, ya gotta move.”

“Mmhmm…”

Minho’s voice lowered. “Thomas, they’re all worried about you.” Silence. “Fuck Tom, I’m worried about you.” More silence. Minho looked over at the boy covered under white sheets, hiding his face. “Do you… Do you want to talk about what happened over there?” Thomas pulled the sheets tighter around him. “I can listen you know. I know I give you shit man, but I’m here for you.”

Thomas turned round to face him, looking years younger than during the phases. He looked like a young boy who knew nothing but devastation and disaster his whole life. “Thanks, Minho.” The broken boy wore a broken smile. “It’s just a lot to take in, but I’m coping. Just give me time.”

Minho fiddled with his hands. He knew Thomas was lying but he got up off the bed and grinned back. “Alright, but just so you know, you have a place reserved on my football team.”

As Minho shut the door to the room, he breathed out heavily and leaned his head against the door just wondering what happened to his friend and who was the shell left behind.

That night, Thomas joined them for dinner. Frypan pulled him into a one-arm hug and promised him seconds and the boy smiled. He sat across for Minho and beside Brenda. Brenda caught Minho’s eye while they ate and she mouthed the words, ‘thank you’ and he nodded.

“Thomas you missed Minho and Fry getting beat by Gally and Aris, never seen such bad losers,” Brenda laughed.

Gally held up a relatively small portion of food, ‘Yeah, I’m going hungry for being talented.”

“Guess who ain’t gettin’ desert,” Frypan replied.

Thomas chuckled, a sound they haven’t heard in weeks. “I’ll be sure to be there next time.”

Brenda and Clint then looped him into a conversation how Harriet and Jorge are taking charge over the population in Paradise and how, surprisingly, they are being listened to.

Minho just studied Thomas. He looked better smiling but Minho couldn’t help but think it was like the calm before the storm. But for now, Minho enjoyed the time he had with the boy who resembled his friend more than the person who first entered Paradise.

In the days that followed, Minho was cautious around Thomas. The girls, Fry, Clint and Jorge wasted no time in showing Thomas the garden they done up that spread the land for acres. Gally and Aris were more careful, considering their past but in the end they did show their collection of CDs they had collected around Paradise to him.

Every night, Minho listened out for crying and like every other night, Thomas lay in a bed soaked with tears. It still hasn’t changed.

By the middle of the second month, Minho caught Thomas wiping away tears during the day. They boy was alone sitting out on the stone bench in the garden. “Thomas?”

He watched how Thomas dried his eyes with the ends of his shirt. “Minho! Don’t sneak up like that.”

 

“Sorry mate.” Minho sat in beside him.

“Guess you saw that-“

“Just talk to me, Thomas.”

“Not today.”

Minho stared at the ground then back up to look at the garden where flowers were starting to grown and bloom. “… Newt would have liked it here. Teresa and Chuck too,” he said softly.

Thomas’ shoulders hunched. “Yeah,” he replied in a strangled voice. “They would’ve.”

“Imagine Newt though, he totally would have loved those CDs Gally and Aris have been hoarding.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I guess we’ll never know… It’s not his fault he was not Immune, it was better for him to stay there.”

“Mmm…”

“Sometimes I wish he made it here, even if he was not Immune… It’s selfish but- shit. I miss him.”

Minho heard Thomas sniffling and his head whipped round to see Thomas with tears streaming down his face. The boy buried his head into his arms, sobbing and Minho was immediately at his side with both arms around him. “Thomas… Fuck I’m sorry,” Minho whispered. He sat with his arms around the boy who broke before him.

“M-Minho, you don’t understand-“

“It’s okay-“

“It’s not.” Thomas shook in his arms, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “I- I killed him. I killed him. Newt… He died… I killed him.” Thomas was hysterical.

“Thomas please calm down, please. You’re not thinking straight.`”

“Minho,” Thomas sobbed. “He told me to, he told me to put a bullet to his head. He told me to shoot him- to kill him. And I did. I should have dragged him to the van, I could have saved him. I killed him. I killed Newt.”

Minho’s arms dropped around Thomas. “What?”

Thomas turned to him, with tired, red rimmed eyes and hair astray. His face was wet with a mixture of tears and sweat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he told me to… “

Minho stood up and Thomas’ eyes followed him. “And you never thought to tell me this? You kept this from all of us? From me? You sat there and lied to all of our faces.”

“MInho, let me explain-“

“You know what Thomas? Fuck off!” he roared as he marched back to the house, slamming every door behind him. “Just fuck off Thomas, you- you- How fucking could you!”

Thomas stayed out in the garden until the night when Gally managed to get him back inside. By then, Minho had pulled his covers off his bed and was curled up on the couch.

 

The day after, Minho sat out on the same garden bench, this time with the knowledge that added to the list of the people they had lost was a person he had spent years with in the Maze, a person he had survived the Scorch with and a person he lost to the Flare. A person killed by another friend he cared too much about. He gripped the edge of the bench tightly.

“Minho?”

“Thomas, don’t-“

“Let me explain, please Minho.”

“Like hell I’ll let you,” he said sharply, standing up.

“Newt wanted-“

“Don’t you even speak his name,” Minho yelled and with a strong fist, he left a red mark on Thomas’ face.

Thomas’ eyes widened as he gingerly reached up and touched his jaw where the pain was spreading and skin had split.

“Fuck,” Minho breathed. “Shit, Thomas I-“

“I deserved that.” Thomas looked down to the ground, he looked defeated.

“Tell me why, why you had to kill Newt?”

“It was his choice.” Thomas began fiddling with his pockets, taking everything out. “I was gonna show this to you,’ he said as he opened an aged and crumpled piece of paper. “Remember before we got onto the Berg? He gave me this and said to open it when the time was right. I meant to show you it many times... I never could.”

Minho dropped to his seat as he read it. He would like to say that there were no tears in his eyes but then he’d be lying. “Why did he give you this? Why not me?”

Thomas didn’t answer, he just sat beside Minho and tried not to wince as Minho shifted away. “You wouldn’t have wanted it anyway.”

“What happened after?”

“When we met Newt again in the Crank Palace…. Do you remember how he was so angry?” Thomas paused and took a breath. “That was my fault. I should’ve opened the note then… “ Silent tears fell down his face. “But I forgot about it. And- and it just looked like I had never cared at all about him. I felt awful and horrible after I found out what the note had said. I didn’t even realise it.”

Minho nodded but stared straight down, absorbing himself in the story, trying to see what he’d have done if he was in Thomas’ place. To see if Newt had picked him, would he have also made it out alive?

“But when did he…?”

Thomas stiffened. “I spotted him while we were in the van driving past all these cranks… I made Vince stop. I- I didn’t know what I’d do or what I was supposed to do but I went to Newt. All I was thinking was ‘I have to save him.’” Thomas paused. “He told me things, things about his past in the Glade.”

“He told you that he tried to-“

 

Thomas nodded. They fell into this silence that almost felt necessary while Minho remembered that horrifying time Newt had went missing for hours.

“Alby was the one who managed to save him, ya know. He dove under Newt just before impact and held out his arms, damaged a few ribs though. But he was holding Newt’s head above the ground, Newt was sobbing into his arms.”

Thomas took a breath, listening closely to his story as he finally learned the tragic details of his late friend’s past.

“Never the same after that. Darker atmosphere round him, better maybe, but not as cheery as he once was. Like returned to the Glade a changed person.… What happened after he told you that?”

“It hurt him- the fact I didn’t kill him. He was shouting at me and I just knew… I just knew he couldn’t be saved, please trust me when I say this Minho. I wanted to drag his ass back to the van even if I had to knock him out and tie him up. I wanted him here, but he didn’t want to be here. He then told me, I still remember his last words,” Thomas looked up at Minho, “ ‘Please Tommy, please.’ “ Thomas stared back to the ground with his hands clenched together. “It was the way he said the, Minho. He was calmer but he was just so broken, so so broken.” Tears began to well up in his eyes again. “I couldn’t leave him there to suffer life as a crank- he suffered to much already! So I just- I just pulled that bloody trigger and watched him fall to the ground. I saw the life leave him and I can’t recover from that.”

Minho felt the guilt hit him like a truck. “Fuck, Thomas-“

“It’s not your sympathy I need Minho, what I need is forgiveness. Something I cannot even give myself.”

Minho stammered as he spoke. “You killed my friend.”

“He wanted me to do it. It could have easily been you.”

Minho began wondering again, would he have pulled the trigger? Would he have pulled the trigger and sent a bullet through his friend’s head? The more he thought, the more he could see how strong a person had to be to shoot someone they cared about. Minho got up off the bench and Thomas mimicked him. They stood facing each other.

Thomas watched as Minho lifted his arm and Thomas shut his eyes, awaiting another punch to his face.

Instead he felt Minho pull him into a hug. Stunned, Thomas stood with his arms uselessly at his sides. Minho turned into the nape of his neck.

“Thomas, I’m so sorry,” Minho whispered. “I ‘m so fucking sorry.”

Thomas slowly reached up around the other boy as Minho gripped him tighter. Thomas felt himself begin to shake and he knew he was going to lose it again. Warm tears streamed down his face and he was crying into Minho’s shirt. “I didn’t want to shoot him,” he whispered repeatedly and, borderline hysterically.

Minho just held him, feeling Thomas trembling in his arms. He couldn’t help but think of Newt and Alby after the fall. The way Thomas was at this moment, was a scary copy of what Newt had been like. Both scarred- wounded more mentally than physically. A piece of them, a piece that was their happy self, just ripped from them.

And Minho said them. Three words Thomas longed for.

“I forgive you.”


End file.
